


Tell Me

by Marks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Established Relationship, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sappy, SportsFest, jeez tags really lay it all out there huh?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 00:32:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15449355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: They were suddenly faced with the reality of all the time in the world on their hands. And what Yamaguchi wanted Tsukishima to do with his hands was, well, him.





	Tell Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [booksong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksong/gifts).



> Written for SportsFest 2018, Bonus Round 3: Superlatives. This one's for booksong, who prompted "[NICEST HANDS]: Tsukishima Kei" and specifically put it in the nsfw comm, so we all know what we're here for.
> 
> As usual, my attempt at quick and dirty turned into medium-length and sappy.

Yamaguchi had a bad habit of biting his tongue. That was why he wasn’t surprised when Tsukishima finally asked, “What do you want?” He’d had a few moments where he’d fantasized about that, just getting permission to let all of his weird ideas hang out there, but even in his dreams Tsukishima was a little exasperated with him.

Reality wasn’t like that.

Reality was Tsukishima curled over him on his bed, one leg between both of Yamaguchi’s, while Yamaguchi wished their jeans would magically disappear. And if that alone wasn’t shorting out Yamaguchi’s ability to think, then Tsukishima’s voice finished the job. He wasn’t exasperated; no, his voice was low and sweet – eager, even, like he _needed_ to know what Yamaguchi wanted and he needed to know it _now_. What else could Yamaguchi do but tell him?

Yamaguchi swallowed and forced himself to meet Tsukishima’s eyes. “Your h— hands,” he said, immediately registering the question written all over Tsukishima’s face. “I – I want them everywhere.”

“Everywhere?” Tsukishima echoed, a wondering note in his voice. Yamaguchi couldn’t blame him. It took them a long time to acknowledge that their friendship had evolved into _more_ , and when they finally accepted it, they moved so slowly at first – too slowly in Yamaguchi’s opinion. And ever since hormones and desperation made them speed up, everything they’d done had been in a furtive rush; Yamaguchi didn’t think Karasuno’s supply closet would ever recover. But today Tsukishima’s parents were away and Tsukishima had confirmed ten times over that Akiteru wasn’t going to drop by for surprise brotherly bonding, so they were suddenly faced with the reality of all the time in the world on their hands. And what Yamaguchi wanted Tsukishima to do with his hands was, well, him.

“Everywhere,” Yamaguchi confirmed. After all, it had been more than a year since Yamaguchi knew he’d fallen for Tsukishima, even if Tsukishima wasn’t aware for most of that; he’d had a lot of time to think about this. A _lot_.

Tsukishima’s hands were works of art. They weren’t perfect and unblemished; that wouldn’t have been nearly as appealing. No, they were always callused and his pinky still stuck out funny from the time he jammed it when they played Shiratorizawa. But that was why Yamaguchi liked them. Those rough spots, that pinky with the weird angle – that all showed off Tsukishima’s hard work and nothing got Yamaguchi going more than that. Also, shallowly, Yamaguchi couldn’t stop thinking about how _long_ his fingers were. To demonstrate this, Yamaguchi lifted Tsukishima’s hand to his mouth and sucked two of his fingers inside, pushing them along his tongue, and kept going until they slid toward the back of his throat. Tsukishima made a choked off sound that Yamaguchi would be replaying late at night until the end of time. Then, he tugged Tsukishima’s wrist back until his mouth was empty again.

“Get the idea?” Yamaguchi asked. He meant for it to sound sexy, but thought he landed closer to _no follow-up questions please_.

“I’m starting to,” Tsukishima said, giving Yamaguchi a long look before letting his breath out in a slow exhale. 

Well. Maybe Yamaguchi hit sexy after all.

Tsukishima kissed Yamaguchi then, and it turned wet and desperate fast, Yamaguchi holding on for dear life as they rocked their hips together. Tsukishima broke away to urge Yamaguchi up to take off his shirt, but went right back to kissing as soon as Yamaguchi’s shirt disappeared into the dark recesses of Tsukishima’s room. He had his tongue inside Yamaguchi’s mouth as he skimmed his fingertips down one of Yamaguchi’s arms and along the inside of his wrist. He ran them up Yamaguchi’s side and across his stomach and up again, until two of them caught Yamaguchi’s nipple. He stayed there for a while, pinching and rolling, until Yamaguchi had to break their kiss again to gulp in air.

“Okay?” Tsukishima said into Yamaguchi’s ear. Yamaguchi threw his arms around Tsukishima’s neck and nodded, pressing his face against Tsukishima’s throat. His breath hitched when Tsukishima switched to the other side and he whined when Tsukishima took his hand away completely. “Relax,” Tsukishima told him.

He shifted down on the bed, those long fingers deftly opening up the button on Yamaguchi’s jeans and dragging down the zipper. Yamaguchi bit his lip as Tsukishima urged him to lift his hips, pulling everything down and off and leaving Yamaguchi feeling really, really exposed, especially because Tsukishima was still dressed.

Yamaguchi let out a nervous laugh. “I feel weird like this,” he admitted.

“No,” Tsukishima said, his voice on the verge of eager, which was just _bizarre_. It made Yamaguchi feel powerful, too, knowing he was the one who’d done that to him. “No,” said Tsukishima again, eyeing Yamaguchi up and down. “Don’t. You – you look…” He swallowed hard and trailed off without saying anything else.

Tsukishima’s words from before came back to Yamaguchi, that sweet _What do you want?_ echoing in his head as he bit down on his bottom lip and squirmed restlessly on Tsukishima’s sheets.

“Tsukki, tell me,” Yamaguchi blurted out. “I want you to.”

Tsukishima blinked at him for a moment before a small smile appeared on his face. He leaned over Yamaguchi again, his face very close to Yamaguchi’s, and pushed one of his hands underneath his pillow. “Hot,” he said. “You look so hot that it’s hard to look right at you.”

Yamaguchi snickered. “Hard, huh?”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes and kissed Yamaguchi again, probably just to get him to shut up. He sat back again, in between Yamaguchi’s legs, holding a bottle he must have found under his pillow. Yamaguchi swallowed when he realized what it was, and again when he noticed it was already half-empty. The idea of Tsukishima using that on himself – the thought alone was doing so much to Yamaguchi that he didn’t even know how he’d last through what he’d asked for.

“Couldn’t resist that one, could you?” asked Tsukishima, twisting the bottle’s top open and tilting it out into his palm.

Yamaguchi grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, Tsukki.”

“Mm,” Tsukishima said and wrapped one hand around Yamaguchi’s cock without missing a beat, making him arch his hips off the bed and cry out. Tsukishima stroked slowly, deliberately, not fast or tight enough for Yamaguchi’s liking, but enough to make Yamaguchi’s vision blur. When he blinked enough to clear it, he could see a smirk twisted Tsukishima’s lips.

“You’re a – _ah_ – a jerk, you know that?” 

“Mm,” Tsukishima said again, and his smile widened. He moved his hand faster then and squeezed tighter, sweet relief that made Yamaguchi’s thighs tremble. He looked at Tsukishima’s hand wrapped around his dick, the way his hand just looked _better_ than when Yamaguchi did this to himself, the way Tsukishima was looking down, watching his hand on Yamaguchi, too. Yamaguchi moaned as the friction from the rough spots on Tsukishima’s palm almost undid him completely. Then he noticed –

“Wait,” Yamaguchi said with effort, struggling onto his elbows. Thoughts were getting pretty difficult, and he had to make sure. “Tsukki, that’s your left hand.”

Tsukishima looked up, then down again and stopped moving, like he was surprised by that, too. To Yamaguchi’s relief, he didn’t take his hand away. “Ah,” he said, and Yamaguchi noticed the tips of his ears going red. “I know. I just wanted my better hand free for – for something else. That’s what you wanted, right?” He met Yamaguchi’s eyes and looked so unsure, but so ready.

Yamaguchi nodded and nodded and nodded, settling back against the pillow again. He wanted that so much, Tsukishima’s hand wrapped around him, his fingers inside him, Tsukishima everywhere and overwhelming him for as long as he wanted, as many times as he wanted. Anything was okay with him, anything and everything Tsukishima wanted to do to him, for him. It was kind of scary how true that was. But when he opened his mouth to tell Tsukishima all of that, the only thing that came out was, “ _Please_.”

Tsukishima took a shuddery breath, his eyes locked on Yamaguchi as he fumbled for the half-empty bottle again. This time, he did have to let go and Yamaguchi missed the feeling, even though he knew he’d be back and more in a moment. Tsukishima got both hands slicked up and dropped the lube. He licked his lips as he got his hand around Yamaguchi’s dick again, staring between Yamaguchi’s legs so hard that Yamaguchi started to get embarrassed.

“Could you,” Tsukishima finally began, “ah, bend your knees and put your feet flat against the bed. I think – it might be easier like that.”

“Okay,” Yamaguchi said in a small voice, pulling his knees up like Tsukishima asked. 

Tsukishima muttered something that sounded like, “Fuck,” under his breath when Yamaguchi did it, and then Yamaguchi felt one of Tsukishima’s fingers pressed against him, and then pushing _inside_ him. Yamaguchi let out a gasp and his eyes fluttered shut; okay, this was it, this was Tsukishima’s finger inside him, the same way he did to himself at night when he was just pretending they were Tsukishima’s fingers.

Reality was so much better. Tsukishima was in a lot deeper than Yamaguchi could do on his own, and even though the rhythm around Yamaguchi’s dick had faltered at first, once he started sliding in and out at a good pace, he could match things up again. Tsukishima was so thorough, he always paid attention to the little details, and he was paying attention to Yamaguchi now. If Yamaguchi arched up, he followed; if Yamaguchi moaned and threw his arm across his forehead, he’d do whatever caused that again. It was too much, so much, there was no way Yamaguchi was going to last much longer.

“Yamaguchi,” he suddenly heard Tsukishima say in a tone so urgent, so desperate that it made Yamaguchi’s eyes fly open again, “is it good? Please tell me what you want.”

“It’s good,” replied Yamaguchi and then, as if to emphasize that, he choked out a moan as Tsukishima’s finger somehow went even deeper. “ _Tsukki_ ,” he said. “So good. You can add another one now.”

“Another? Are you sure?”

“ _Yes_.”

Tsukishima groaned and Yamaguchi felt his knee slip against the sheets, bumping up against the inside of Yamaguchi’s thigh; it made Yamaguchi realize how turned on Tsukishima had to be, even without Yamaguchi touching him back, and that thought was mind-bending. 

When Tsukishima pressed two fingers inside him, it seemed like just that change shouldn’t have made a big difference, but it did, it did, _it did_. The stretch was more, Yamaguchi felt helpless in a way that he hadn’t expected, and Tsukishima pushed in so deep it was almost incomprehensible. Then, he twisted both fingers in a really good way, maybe an accident, maybe not, but Yamaguchi let out a moan so shaky and drawn-out that it had to count as a sob.

“ _Tsukki_. Kei. Your _hands_ ,” Yamaguchi babbled as Tsukishima moved faster and faster, as every one of Yamaguchi’s thoughts focused on what Tsukishima’s hands were doing. “They’re so, I want, I’ve always wanted, I luh –” And then he jerked up sharply, coming hard all over his stomach and almost blacking out in the process.

When he recovered a little, Tsukishima was spread out next to him, his hand shoved inside his own jeans, apparently unable to hold back anymore. Yamaguchi rolled onto his side, then undid the button and pulled down the zipper, both to give him some room and so he could watch Tsukishima’s clever fingers some more. It was selfish, sure, but it also meant he got to watch Tsukishima jerk himself off while moaning his name, before coming on Yamaguchi’s stomach where his own mess was already drying off.

They started kissing naturally, immediately, and Yamaguchi wasn’t even sure who initiated it; all he knew is he could probably do this every day of his life and never get sick of it, a huge, life-altering thought that got stuck at the back of his throat and stayed trapped there. Instead when they finally broke apart, Yamaguchi pressed their foreheads together and said, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Tsukishima asked, genuinely curious.

“For – well, for everything, I guess.” Yamaguchi laughed nervously. “Did you like that?”

Tsukishima’s eyes flicked down to the shared mess on Yamaguchi’s belly. “Obviously,” he drawled. Then he pulled Yamaguchi into a slow, sweet kiss, one at odds with his answer. He pulled back, stroking Yamaguchi’s cheek with his thumb. “And next it’s my turn,” he said easily, almost bored, like he was reciting the weather.

Yamaguchi’s eyes widened and he nodded hard. “Anything, Tsukki,” he said. “Anything you want.”


End file.
